


asclepius

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Childbirth, Medical Procedures, Medieval Medicine, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 11:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: Lisa had no obligation to seek out true medical knowledge all because she hated the notion of resorting to leeches and bloodletting. No one asked her to do what they considered to be the unthinkable, the unholy. Those patients would have gone about their daily lives had they never met her. They would have also died far too early. It was her life's calling to help these people.And look at what it brought her in the end.





	asclepius

**Author's Note:**

> After spending some time alone, Alucard decides to continue his mother’s work and becomes a local doctor—a choice that eventually brings unexpected consequences.

Alucard doesn’t need to look at a mirror to know the kind of a sordid state he’s in; red watery eyes, sniffled nose flushed pink and disheveled locks of hair falling over his face after being tightly bunched up in his fists. It’s surprising how much crying can put certain things into perspective. With a trembling hand, he uses the end of his sleeve as a handkerchief.

He hasn’t cried this much since childhood. It feels... liberating. He was always so concerned with maintaining his composure while in the presence of others. Hide your softness; keep a guard around your exposed heart. Always be the cold spot in the room.

They say if you walk through one of those cold spots especially in an empty room, it means you have just brushed shoulders with a ghost. Not necessarily the worst thing to be. This castle might once again feel like home—or some semblance of home— should Alucard become more akin to a ghost. He would fit in better with its occupants that come and go, down staircases and across open doorways as fleeting visions of past memories.

Alucard places both palms upon his wet cheeks, trying to cool them. No more of those thoughts. In an hour or so, he will be fine. What he needs is distraction and there is plenty of that. He could continue wandering the corridors, inspecting whatever damage he missed during his first walkthrough. Make his favourite rooms more presentable and allow the sun to brighten up this dreary, death filled citadel, no longer to be hidden in shadows.

Standing up, Alucard sets off down the hallway. Cleaning, like crying, should help unclutter his mind. He starts by brushing aside larger pieces of rubble, stone, and splintered wood before realizing he needs a broom—and perhaps a shovel. There’s a substantial storage room in one of the neighbouring halls. Alucard recalls visiting it many times after accidentally breaking an entire set of Lisa’s vials or toppling over a row of candelabras when his powers were still new and difficult to control.

He hopes to feel some sweet nostalgia walking throughout the castle. A sense that he has returned to a past that kept him safe, gave him knowledge, and comforted him despite its bloodied history. A past that he loved.

There’s always the Belmont Hold should Alucard need it; the very thought causes him to stifle a chuckle. His relationship with that museum is certainly an interesting one. There was hatred, suspicion, even jealousy. All of which he made sure to voice very plainly to its sole heir. Alucard regrets those particular words, along with others that escaped.

_You were right in calling me a bastard._ Another memory that tugs at the corners of his lips. These days, he can’t help but respect those archives and their contents. He should, now that the Hold is his to own. Though the vampire skulls in their glass cases will have to be thrown out.

**_Tick, tick, tick._** Alucard stops in the middle of another stone hallway. He almost moves on, thinking he misheard, until it occurs again. A few steps forward and the sound grows in volume. He follows and arrives at a closed door. Strange; he always remembered this to be one of many empty rooms. Most likely a stray rat or bat trying to claw its way out. Alucard grabs the doorknob. Might as well set it free else the noise echoing off the walls will drive him mad.

He's right about it being a trapped animal, yet the reveal still surprises. Alucard backs away while a cat and what he thinks is a fox scamper out in a panicked dash. A few birds, including an owl, follow close behind. He doesn’t question where they came from or how they managed to get inside the castle yet; he’s more intrigued by the contents of the room. Nearly identical to his father’s workshops and studies with a large table erected in the centre. The only differences are the animal cages lining the walls. Curiosity develops into wariness when Alucard comes across splatters of red gracing the wood, too old and too dried to be washed away.

There’s another unexpected noise; a subtle, high-pitched whimpering that seems very close. Alucard searches around before looking under the table. Nestled in the farthest corner he sees a small black shape curled in on itself, shaking. He edges closer, noticing a tail and two folded ears.

“Where did you come from?” At the sound of his voice, the dog turns around only to cower even further away. Despite its bright blue eye, wrinkly face, and tongue that perpetually sticks out, its demeanour is one of debilitating fear. Alucard decides not to be concerned with the missing eye and exposed bones; Castle Dracula will always be home to a whole manner of colourful creatures.

“It’s alright. There’s no reason to be scared.” He holds out his hand, but the dog refuses to move. He needs to earn its trust in a different way—a palm full of food or stick as a plaything.

Something lying on the floor catches Alucard’s eye. A broken piece of bone, red as the stains across the table, should do just fine. Crawling back, he stretches his arm and offers it to the dog. Still shaking, but now with a slightly less apprehensive look in its eye. Ears and head perk up; its tail might even be wagging.

“Here. This is for you.”

The dog stands up, showing how small it really is. Nails tap against the stone floor as it walks forward. Its tongue flicks against the bone before opening its mouth to gently accept it. He relaxes, watching in delight as the creature happily gnaws on its new toy. It even allows him to reach over and pat the top of its head. Fingertips brush along its skull, but Alucard doesn’t flinch. He realizes how it might have come into existence.

Necromancy, alchemy, transmutation—these are not unknown concepts. Dracula dabbled in everything, including the sciences that fed a young dhampir’s insatiable curiosity. Or the medicinal practices he learned while sitting on his mother’s lap. No area of study was taboo in their household. Admittedly, the sight of a reanimated dog playing, panting, and barking like all others in the world (with their skin intact) isn’t that much of a shock to him.

Alucard had many pets; most humans would have called them unsavoury beings. He never cared then, so he doesn’t care now. He’s charmed by this little black dog. Picking it up, it drops the bone and starts licking his cheek, squirming excitedly. The castle doesn’t feel so empty anymore.

“Now what should I call you?” Nothing comes to mind, but a visit to one of the libraries might help instill some imagination into it. The dhampir prince leaves the room with his new friend, who has managed to calm down. “Let’s go find you one, shall we?” 

* * *

A copper gear clicks into place, fitting with the others like the final piece in an elaborate puzzle. With a couple flips and switches, Alucard changes his multi-lensed glasses to the highest magnified setting. He makes a minor adjustment, wielding the needle-thin pick between steady fingers. Satisfied, he picks up the polished cover, his own golden eyes shining in its reflection, and carefully presses it into place.

Alucard takes a well-deserved breath. The glasses weigh heavy on the bridge of his nose. He looks over his stagnant creation with its sleek body hiding an inside filled with gears and springs that in theory should work together in tandem. There’s only one more step, then he can at last call this project finished. Using a pair of pincers, he takes a ball of coal and delicately hovers it over a nearby candle. Not enough to light it ablaze, but enough to ignite a few embers. He then places the ball within his device through a hole in its back before closing it. All that’s left to do is wait in anticipation while thin billows of smoke drift out of every crack.

There’s one click. Then another, and another, coupled with a few whirs. Metallic eyes blink followed by a tail swaying from side to side. The fox with shining gold and silver in place of red fur exhales steam, stretching out its limbs one by one. A little janky at first but after getting used to how its mechanisms work, each movement becomes much smoother. Alucard removes his glasses, pleased at how his creation hops off the table to join the other fox with its exposed muscle.

If his father were here, he might call his animatronics frivolous (in a well-meaning tone). Mere toys showcasing spectacle and little else. True, they are for his own amusement and there’s not much brand-new knowledge Alucard can gain from them. He already knows how machinery operates. But it’s a nice feeling to create something for pleasure rather than defensive purposes.

“Would you like a companion for yourself, Agrippa?” He leans down to see a small black dog sleeping under his chair, no doubt having worn himself out from the hours he spent running around the laboratory. The name Agrippa comes from the author of three ancient books based on the subject of occult philosophy. Alucard found them by chance while rummaging through untouched shelves down in the Belmont Hold—it seemed the best fit for a creature of similar origins.

“No, I didn’t think so.” He doesn’t need a companion. He seems content enough to be on his own, free to run up and down the castle hallways until passing out on the middle of the carpet. Then early in the morning, before the sun has a chance to rise, he’ll jump onto Alucard’s pillow and wake him by nuzzling his face. Or tug and paw at the hem of his master’s pant leg while he’s at his workstation if he’s that starved for attention. But Agrippa never gets lonely.

Neither does Alucard—he tells himself this every day. He’s not lonely or bored. He needed distraction, he found it, and it’s been serving him well. Seldom spending his nights in bed, more so in the laboratory and libraries. His hours are filled with the sound of electricity sparking, liquids bubbling, and gears clanking.

Until he steps outside into the rest of the castle and it’s quiet again. Without Agrippa for company (or conversation), all that’s left are his footsteps and heartbeat. Not even the ghosts disguised as memories come to visit as often as they used to. Soon, his mind goes quiet as well. Quiet and slow. He stops walking and sits at the bottom of a stairwell, scraping some excess grime off his fingertips. The two foxes, both reanimated in different ways, bound across the corridor, their snouts rubbing against each other, before they run off, soft paws racing against hard ones. Such a marvel. What might they say if they saw what…

They. Alucard’s thoughts become clear. It’s been weeks since their shared farewells—or has it been a month? Time seems to pass differently for him. Before he can wonder how they’re faring or where they’ve gone to, Alucard realizes that he already has his answers. He always does whenever the need strikes. Making his way up the spine of the castle, he heads straight for the main study. All the paintings have been restored to their hanging positions; all the glass has been cleared away. That is until Alucard enters the room and the jagged shards spring to life, hovering gracefully in the air, mismatched and in disarray. He beckons one forward and uses an elongated nail to inscribe the first rune onto its smooth surface.

Sounding off a gentle chime, the shards twist and dance, forming a mirror. A few more ticks of his nails, a few more runes sink into the water-like glass. Alucard’s reflection dissipates, replaced by grass, trees, and the colours of dawn. The scene before him is humble, a small campsite with a familiar canvas covered wagon. Yet his eyes are immediately drawn to the extinguished fire pit where two travelers sleep side by side. This sight isn’t shocking; it’s still quite early in the day after all. What does surprise Alucard are their clothes. Sypha’s robes have been immaculately repaired while Trevor at long last got himself out of that old tunic and into something which brings out his better physical qualities.

Sypha lies comfortably with her head on his chest and an arm pulling her closer. Alucard smiles softly, the sound of glass upon glass ringing in his ears. He raises a hand after debating with himself. This is a transmission mirror. 400 years old with the ability to push through solid matter—including flesh and blood. Easy as stepping through an open doorway. He could join them. Ask about their travels, their adventures, and how often they managed to get into trouble. He could enjoy their company one more time. He could…

Alucard’s fingers touch the glass, sending ripples across its surface. They stay. He stays. There’s nothing wrong with the mirror, not even as Trevor and Sypha fade away. He stares at his reflection, a combination of dejection and acceptance. He won’t forcibly insert himself into the life they now lead. It would be awkward reuniting with them this way. Give it time, they’ll see each other again somehow. Alucard recalls the advice he gave himself, about guarding his heart and the cold spot in the room.

Warm sunlight pours across the floorboards, the same that greeted his friends. He’s always been wary about leaving both the castle and Belmont ruins for too long. Short woodland walks with Agrippa bounding excitably by his feet have been the extent of his outings. But today the nearest village is hosting a market, and Lisa always wanted him to try existing among the same humans she cared for.

* * *

It’s strange walking down the roads that lead away from the Belmont grounds. Plenty of things feel strange now. There’s no worry of bumping into the night hoards that once plagued these roads. They’ve been left empty for some time, save for animals in the underbrush.

Alucard used to look out his window every evening, certain he would see carriages bearing emblems from across the continent, pulled along by rotting horse corpses. Up towards the steps of the castle they would arrive, letting out vampires dressed in silk redder than freshly spilled blood. One by one, their heads held high like a meticulous procession. Here on the resting place of a mad lord, after spitting upon the ruins of their oldest enemy, they would try removing Dracula’s bastard son from a nonexistent throne.

He hasn’t seen those carriages, the horse corpses, or the finely dressed vampires—not yet. Alucard can’t even bother viewing himself as a ruler to be dethroned. He takes after his mother in that aspect, preferring simpler things. She would be pleased to see him strolling through the gates of a lively hamlet, mingling with his other half.

Alucard wants nothing more than to continue honouring the memory of Lisa (perhaps now through less violent or patricidal means). Though his visit to the market is also for personal benefits. It’s good to see faces apart from his own in the Carpathian mirror. Despite how awkwardly he puts one foot in front of the other while wringing the leather strap of his shoulder bag, unsure of how to present himself to a world outside the castle. Trevor and Sypha must be so much better at this.

“Rabbit, wolf, and bear pelts!” Shouts one merchant with as much hair on his forearms as there is on his chin. Alucard avoids him.

“Fancy some cured and dried meats, sir?” A different one inquires.

“Not for me.”

Farther and further he explores. Soon the marketplace and its contents start blurring together. Food, clothing, daily tools to make the average Wallachian’s life a little easier. There are a few stand out vendors such as a woman selling jewelry that sparkles in the sunlight, the daughter of a blacksmith perfecting her skills in exchange for a few generous coins, and a pair of young men manipulating half-melted glass after heating it over an open flame while spectators watch in awe.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Asks a voice just behind him. Alucard spins around, wondering if the question was meant for him or someone else. He faces a man and a younger woman, one stocky and well-tanned, the other frail with pronounced cheekbones. Bushels of dried herbs coupled with root vegetables and jars of wild berry jam line their vendor table. “They’re brothers from Bucharesti but were raised in Constantinople. That’s where they learned their trade. Like magicians, those two. I could watch them work all day.”

“You’ll have to excuse my father.” Alucard steps forward and sees the wisps of thin hair beneath the girl’s multicoloured headscarf. The closer he looks, the more her weight—or lack thereof—worries him. “He likes to converse with anyone who happens to pass by, whether they wish to or not.”

“Not at all. It is a rather fascinating sight.” One that Alucard has seen performed through magic many times before. Nonetheless, he cannot help but show his own amusement, even admiration at what human hands can achieve and create. The very same sensation he feels when Sypha bends the elements to her will or when Trevor wields the Morningstar with such ease and, dare he admit it, grace.

Humanity is violent, cruel, and more often than not operates solely on its own warped superstitions and self-preservation. Yet there are lights that can be found within it—a hunter who rose up and realized his true potential. The most powerful, fearsome, brilliant magician Alucard has ever had the pleasure of knowing. A marketplace where its residents no longer have to fear what might be lurking outside their gates. A doctor and mother who thought only the best of her own kin.

“Do you live in the village?”

“Close enough. My wife, this not so little one, and I live further out in the woods. Not a lot of land to call our own, but there’s no shortage of plants and berries. Plenty of game passes through too, boding well for us whenever we need meat and pelts.”

“And we’re about to be blessed with another _little one_.” The daughter speaks in a breathy tone, as though exhausted from nothing.

“Yes, of course! My wife’s heavy with our second child.”

“Congratulations.”

“I see you’ve got your eyes set on the jams.”

Alucard’s head perks up at the comment. He never had much of an enduring sweet tooth, at least not for the usual pastries and candies. As a child, he would sneak into the kitchen in the hopes of finding a few biscuits before bedtime. After growing out of that habit, what he craved instead were sweet marmalades and jams.

“Oh, right. I will take… those two.” He points to a bright red and dark blue jar.

“Would you like those wrapped?”

“Yes, thank you.”

While Alucard readies his payment, he glances up at Daniela and how she struggles to wrap two jars in a simple piece of brown parchment. Her thin lips chapped beyond remedy and her mouth seems incredibly dry. She hands him his purchase with trembling hands, unable to say much else. Alucard turns to Mihai, their expressions matched in concern.

“Everything alright, Daniela?” He asks, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“… I’m fine. I just need water… anything to drink, really. I’m going to the square to find something. I will return soon.” As she leaves the table, Daniela gives Alucard a friendly but weak smile. “Thank you, sir.”

An uncomfortable silence grows between the two men. Alucard thinks about walking away. Leaving this brief encounter as just that—an encounter, nothing more. It’s what he should do, it’s what anyone else in the market would do. Yet the image of Daniela, still young but carrying herself like an elderly woman, tugs at the impulse to know more.

“Your daughter seems very frail.”

“So you’ve noticed. Daniela wasn’t always that thin or weak. She used to be healthier than either myself or her mother. Then… I’m not really sure what happened.”

“Has she been eating?”

“Morning, middle of the day, and night. But nothing sticks to her bones. It’s like all that food just… goes right through and disappears. Every time she takes a bite, she starts complaining about chest aches. Drinks plenty, though. Enough to drown a fully-grown man.”

“How long has she been like this?”

Mihai furrows his brows. “You ask a lot of personal questions.”

Alucard feels his stomach drop. Spoke too soon, spoke too much. Will he ever learn? “It’s just that I know a fair bit about medicine and what causes illnesses.”

“Medicine? Like leeches and boiled pig fat?”

“No, nothing like that. Forgive me, but I was only concerned for your daughter.”

He crosses his arms, sizing Alucard from top to bottom. “Well, you’re an odd mister, but somehow I can tell you have good intentions. Name’s Mihai, by the way. If you’re really concerned for Daniela and you want to put that medicine of yours to use, you’re welcome to visit our cabin and see how she’s faring. Just follow one of the paths due east from here and you’ll find it.”

“I shall consider the offer.”

“In the meantime, enjoy that jam.”

Alucard nods before taking his leave. He meanders through the rest of the village, but not for long. Too much is on his mind and the market has become suffocating. This is no place to think about the condition of a sick girl who may need his help. 

* * *

Metal paws clink against the stone floor, followed by the ever familiar, ever present sound of working gears and steam whistling like a kettle. The other fox, the one remade from dead flesh and bone, playfully pounces on its gold and silver mate as the two creatures run about in the kitchen. Alucard pays them no mind, nor does he pay much attention to his plate of stale biscuits, let alone the half-eaten piece still in his hand. Mihai was right about enjoying the jam; it’s the only enjoyable thing about his sad excuse for a meal.

His cup of wine remains untouched. All Alucard can focus on is the text in front of him, handwritten on pages of thick journal paper. One of the many notebooks Lisa thankfully kept in the castle as opposed to her clinic. Thoughtful eyes narrow as his teeth slowly grind down another uncaring bite. A fingertip traces down a list of symptoms he recognizes—constant dehydration, short of breath, weakness, and a dangerous lack of weight despite an increased appetite.

When he returned home and began searching for the right book, he hoped to prove his original predictions wrong. Daniela is merely a victim of stress; what woman her age and social stature wouldn’t be? Feeble thoughts driven out the moment Alucard opened the front cover. It’s an unsuspecting, insidious illness, like all the others. Commonly occurs in human bodies regardless of age or health and due to its long-term effects on sugars in the bloodstream, Lisa labelled it in her notes as “the sweet death”.

Alucard turns the page to a detailed diagram of an internal organ curved at its end. Beside the drawing with all its miniscule descriptions is a paragraph titled “insulin and its properties”. Accompanying it are instructions that fill up the entire opposite page. It will take time and there can be no room for error. Already Alucard feels overwhelmed even as he looks over the complicated procedure. All the more reason to get started. Closing the book, Alucard tosses away the rest of his biscuit and leaves whatever he didn’t touch for the foxes.

He stops just before reaching the doorway. The notebook tucked under his arm suddenly feels heavy. A voice that had always been locked in the back of his mind crawls forward like a near death cadaver digging its way towards the surface: _This isn’t any of your business._

No, it isn’t. Just as it wasn’t any of Lisa’s. She had no obligation to seek out true medical knowledge all because she hated the notion of resorting to leeches and bloodletting. No one asked her to do what they considered to be the unthinkable, the unholy. Those patients from Lupu, Targoviste, even all the way from Bucharesti, would have gone about their daily lives had they never met her. They would have also died far too early. It was her life’s calling to help these people.

_And look at what it brought her in the end._

Alucard’s thoughts push his conscience in opposing directions. There’s too much of his mother in him, not enough of his father. And yet he cannot forget what they did to her; how those strangers repaid her countless good deeds. Should this family discover the truth, will they repay him in the same way?

His sheer stubbornness undermines any lingering apprehensiveness. Damn his guarded heart as it begins to soften. Of course he wants to help Daniela; he’s the only one who can. Heading towards the laboratory, Alucard says a silent prayer for Lisa. _I will be careful, mother. I promise._

* * *

He works nearly a full week before enough vials are made, filled to the brim with clear liquid. They should last Daniela for a month if not more. Along with a needle and syringe fashioned by himself, Alucard places each one into a bag. The glass vials gently clink together with every subtle movement, but he makes sure to secure them. At least until he arrives at the cottage.

Alucard waits until dark, patting Agrippa’s head as a goodbye (and for good luck). It’s a clear night, clear and quiet. Once reaching the roads most traveled, he slips into the forest, following the same route he took towards the village. It’s safer this way—no sightings, no questions, no suspicions. When the gates come into view, he follows Mihai’s directions, vague as they were. Go east along the paths, search for a cabin. Alucard holds the bag steady after hearing another round of clinking glass.

He thanks his eyes for possessing a keen nature and sharpness not found in mortal humans. There in the distance nestled between the trees with a thin stream of smoke wafting out of its chimney sits a small cottage made from wood and stone. Candlelight shines dimly through its windows. Alucard takes note of the wild berry bushes surrounding this humble plot of land. Walking up to the front facade, he raps his knuckles against the door and waits. His stomach feels heavy and there’s a sledgehammer banging away in his ears and in his heart. But it’s far too late to turn back; not after the work he’s done, not after the promise he made.

The door opens, revealing a surprised Mihai. “Oh, it’s you. I… I didn’t really think you’d actually come.”

“I wanted to come sooner, but—”

“Who is that, love?” A different voice calls out.

“The man from the market, the one I was telling you about.” Footsteps can be heard from within the house. After more waiting, a woman dressed in a thick handknit shawl appears by Mihai’s side. Alucard’s eyes are quickly drawn to her pregnant stomach hiding beneath layers of clothing. It tells him enough of her condition.

“This is my wife, Tobi.”

“Good to meet you, sir. Mihai tells me you bought some of our jams. And that you’re a doctor of sorts.”

“I do have the knowledge. I’m here f—”

“You came to see our daughter.” Tobi interjects, one hand around Mihai’s arm while the other rests on her swollen belly. “I’m not usually one to let strangers into our home. But our poor girl is on the verge of desperation… along with us. If you can tell us what’s wrong with her, that’ll be enough.”

“I can do more than simply tell you what ails Daniela; I made something that can help her.” He holds up his bag and reveals its contents to the Vasiles. Mihai and Tobi stare inside with cautious interest. “Can I see her?”

The two turn to each other for assurance, contemplating their options (what little they have). Eventually, it’s Mihai who opens the door wider. “Come in.”

It’s a quaint home, warm and inviting. Better than most other woodland cottages Alucard has been welcomed into. There’s a well-fed fireplace and the smell of food cooked with heart; small enough to house three persons along with a fourth on their way, but no more. Hanging off the walls are rows upon rows of dried herbs and meats, tapestries of a hard-working family.

“She’s resting in there.” Tobi leads him through the main living space and points towards an open doorway. Alucard looks inside; a single, wavering flame lights the room, revealing a stool where the candle sits collecting drops of fresh and dried wax. Everything else is covered in shadows. A young woman lies on a narrow bed with her back turned towards the entrance, shoulders rising and falling at a laboured pace.

“Daniela…” The figure’s head turns around as she adjusts her position upon the creaking bed frame.

“You again. This is a surprise.” Daniela replies, trying her best to sound as welcoming as she did at the market. It’s difficult to greet her in this state—her cheeks look even more hollow and her neck thinner after only a week. “What brings you to our home?”

“Your father told me of your condition and I—”

“He told you?” She wants to sound angry but in her weakened state, it only comes off as mere annoyance. Daniela rests her scalp against the sweat stained, well-used pillow. “Thank you for the concern, but you shouldn’t have troubled yourself. It’s really nothing. I’m tired, that’s all.”

“What you’re afflicted with is far more serious than mere exhaustion.” He glances at Mihai and Tobi, who are just behind him standing in the doorframe. “You two should hear this as well.” They join Alucard by the bed; four persons crowded into a single claustrophobic room. He contemplates his next words, which ones would be better to use in order to describe this particular illness. How can he make this easy for them to understand?

“The reason why this is happening to you is because inside of your body, there is an organ that has stopped working properly. While your lungs help you breathe and your heart pumps blood, this one helps you ingest food and keep you as healthy as possible.” Alucard pauses to ensure that Daniela is still attentive. Her expression has grown considerably more anxious, but she doesn’t ask any questions yet. “However, because it no longer functions, the food you eat doesn’t get properly ingested. No matter how much you consume, you continue to lose weight and grow weaker.”

“I… I have something… _dead_ inside of me?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it dead.”

“Is it the plague?” Daniela’s eyes grow wide with distress until Alucard quickly takes her hand to calm her.

“No, no. It’s not the plague at all. There’s no real term for it yet. Here…” He pulls out one of the vials and holds it up against the candlelight yet far enough as to not burn the clear liquid. Mihai and Tobi draw in closer, trying to get a better glimpse. “This will help. It acts as a substitution for the organ. You have to take a certain amount every time you eat a meal. The more often you do, the better you will start to feel.”

“Do I drink it?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.” Now comes the most difficult part. His hand slips back inside the bag and retrieves a needle. Daniela begins to squirm at the sight of it; Alucard had the same reaction the first time Lisa showed him. His reluctant cries could be heard throughout every inch of the castle even before the tip punctured his skin. Fortunately, the initial act felt far less painful than he anticipated, and it was only beneficial for his health over the years, but he was a child. Daniela has most likely never seen anything like this before. Alucard won’t chastise her.

“You will need to fill this device with the liquid—not all of it, but enough—then insert the tip either through your arm, abdomen, or leg. I’ll do it first, so you know how it is done.”

The tension in the air remains steady as Daniela goes silent. Water pools up around the curve of her eyes, ready to break into tears running down her cheeks the moment she blinks. She bites her lip; she’s scared but all she wants is for this to end. So that she can stop feigning strength and indifference.

“… please make it quick.”

“It will be. Hold out your arm.” Trembling, she does just that. Alucard takes it in his gloved hand, his other one holding the needle after it’s been filled and prepared. He can feel her shaking, struggling to hold still. “Have you ever been stung by a hornet, Daniela?”

“Y-yes… it was awful.”

“Well, this will be considerably less painful.”

Daniela holds her breath, clutching the sheets in her fist, yet musters enough bravery to not look away even as the needle enters her upper arm. Though the same cannot be said of her parents who turn their heads. At least she now knows how to inject herself. With care, Alucard pushes the liquid forward and empties the container before removing the needle. Daniela will need more than the usual amount, only to get her through until the next morning. After so many hours of constant work, sleepless nights, and days gone without a proper meal, after all that fretting from both parties, the deed is done.

“That was it?” Mihai and Tobi nearly ask the same thing.

“How did that feel?”

“… felt like nothing. Now what happens?”

“It will take some time. But you need to continue taking the medicine.”

“For how long?”

“As long as possible. It will be hard, but this isn’t something that disappears after a few remedies. Although with enough work it can be made liveable.”

Daniela pauses, then nods. “I’ve been through harder times… I’ll do my best.”

“You did very well tonight.” He shows her the rest of the vials along with the needle and what she’ll need to keep it clean. “Remember, take some before every meal and at night to be safe. Don’t empty the entire thing. Now rest, you’ve earned it.”

As Daniela lets relief and exhaustion overtake her, Alucard hands the bag off to Mihai and Tobi, who have both remained shockingly quiet throughout this entire ordeal. He at least expected some words of protest or disbelief. “The remainder should last for a month. I’ll return after that time with more. Try to keep these somewhere cold so that the liquid stays potent.”

Tobi speaks up, unsure if her response is what he wants to hear. “The ground sometimes freezes over during the nights.”

“That will do. Put these in the dirt until she needs them again.”

“When you said you knew about medicine, this was the last thing I expected.” Mihai speaks softly. He and Tobi exchange a glance—they know what the other is thinking. “We cannot thank you enough for this, sir. Would you mind sitting down with us for a moment?”

Alucard thinks about how late it is but traveling in the dead of night has never been a problem for him before. He follows them to the fireplace and seats himself.

“Do you have your own practice somewhere? A clinic, or something like it?”

“No. I wouldn’t call myself a doctor.”

“You should,” Tobi states. “People around here need one, especially someone with your knowledge and skills.”

“There was one people always kept talking about when we lived near Targoviste.”

Alucard leans forward after hearing the name of that forsaken city. “You used to live there… when did you leave?”

“Over a year ago. Long before all the… killing and dying started.”

“We never had to visit her, but a few of our friends did and sometimes we tagged along just to see what all the fuss was about. She turned out to the best of them. Better, actually.” Mihai turns to Alucard, his eyes inquisitive yet serious—an expression even the dhampir has difficulty reading. “While I watched you help Daniela, I could have sworn I saw her again. The way you spoke, worked, and the sort of tools you used, it was like she had come back from the dead. What was her name, love?”

“Lisa, I believe. Can’t recall her last name. Did you know of her?”

A sharpness cuts through Alucard’s chest then down into his gut. This is what he feared most coming out here only because he wanted to help. He could lie, say he never knew this doctor named Lisa. His previous actions coupled with a current panicked expression across his still face betray him. “I did.”

“Did you study under her?”

No answer, but Alucard holds his tongue as Mihai raises a hand. “Not to worry, sir. No matter how you knew her, we won’t tell a soul either way. We never believed the horrid things they accused her of.”

“Even when…” _Even when Dracula promised vengeance and kept that promise to the bitter, blood-soaked end._

“We always thought that what came after her burning was a sort of punishment, not from above but from below… ask me and I’ll say some of them deserved it.” Tobi refuses to waver from her comment, even when her husband turns in shock.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Course I do. Those people and their leaders were daft for even staying in the first place. What sort of fool stands up to the Devil and challenges him?”

Alucard unwittingly scratches at the centre of his chest. What sort of fool indeed? Instead, he gives an obvious response. “It’s late. Your family has been through enough tonight. I should leave.”

Mihai stops him before he can take another step. “Let us give you your pay first.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just wait there, I won’t be long—”

“I said no,” Alucard repeats with the right amount of force in his tone. Mihai and Tobi stare at him, baffled.

“You saved our daughter’s life. We only wish we could do more to repay you.”

“Make sure she takes her medicine just as I instructed until I return in a month and take care of each other. That’s all I ask of you.”

They barter some more, but Alucard refuses to change his stance. Mihai lets out a huff. “Odd as ever. Safe travels and remember we’re still in your debt.”

“Thank you, sir. And bless you.”

Much like his farewell at the market, Alucard nods courteously. His eyes linger on Tobi’s stomach for a second longer before exiting the cottage. _She must be due soon_.

He leaves the same way he arrived with much to think about. The looks of pure, unbridled relief and gratitude on the faces of all three family members linger in his mind. They knew Lisa, but what of others? How long have they gone without seeing a proper doctor to receive real medicine? He shouldn’t forgo the lives of innocent people only because a much larger existential threat has been eliminated. It’s not what Lisa would have done.

That voice, the one crawling and scratching about, returns as the cottage begins to shrink in the distance. _You promised you would be careful._ And he will. 

* * *

Alucard is nothing if not observant. He attributes it to his natural born heightened senses—whether a blessing or curse, he hasn’t decided yet. For now, however, he is grateful. It allows him to slip in and out of villages, including the one that played host to the market. He listens to people’s woes without making himself noticed; rumours, gossip, words of concern for friends and neighbours.

“The widow’s baby is sick. Refuses to eat or even cry.”

“My son can’t go outside. The chill in the air will kill him. Stays in bed all day.”

“It’s getting worse. He can barely speak without coughing.”

That’s all Alucard needs to hear. Day after day he makes his routine excursions then returns to the castle laboratory with enough work to keep his hands and thoughts busy. At night, he quickly goes from house to house, leaving an odd assortment of gifts for these people on their doorsteps. Tonics, powders, bottles filled with caplets; sometimes they find a handwritten note detailing instructions on how to take these remedies.

Others have started talking, of course. Alucard now hears the name “good Samaritan” whenever he visits these communities. Word hasn’t reached any church official, but it will. He’s certain of that. There’s some small comfort to be found in the constant reassurance that they won’t find him, not while Mihai, Tobi, and Daniela keep their promise. Only they know the truth and Alucard prefers it stay that way.

He hasn’t forgotten about them or their daughter’s plight. The stress and worry while he creates more insulin has significantly lessened now that time is on his side. Although it doesn’t stop Alucard from making a premature delivery before the month even ends. His impatience gets the better of him for two reasons: he wants to see how Daniela is faring and he needs to check on her mother’s pregnancy. His previous insistence of “not calling himself a doctor” is starting to hold less and less weight.

Alucard takes a familiar route, leisurely and unperturbed until he arrives at the family cottage, a stream of smoke still drifting from the top of their chimney. It’s not quite dark outside, but late enough for the skies to turn shades of red, orange, and gold. He barely gets in a few knocks before the door opens. A pleasant yet relieving surprise greets him; not Mihai, but the happy expression of Daniela. In the weeks since they met, she’s already gained a small amount of weight, filling out her once baggy dress, and there’s a light in her eyes that was missing before.

“Hello,” she exclaims. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“I thought I’d pay you and your family an early visit. How have the injections been treating you?”

“Well enough. I had some trouble getting used to it, but I feel much better. And I can do it myself. Whatever you gave me worked like a miracle.”

“It’s no miracle, only medicine. I brought more, so you won’t need to worry for the next while. How is your mother?”

“The baby’s been giving her more trouble recently.”

“How so?”

“She’s a lot more tired now and keeps complaining about backaches.”

“Do they occur often?”

“They come and go all day. She’s not in any great pain, at least that’s what she keeps telling us. Would you like to come in? We’re getting supper ready; you should join us.”

“Actually, I’m only here for a short visit. I won’t inconvenience you.”

“Nonsense. Come in, it’s the least we can do after all you’ve done for us.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but it isn’t necess—” But Daniela doesn’t give Alucard much of an option when she starts pulling him into the cottage. All the while, he thinks about Tobi. Perhaps he spoke too soon; perhaps he _should_ stay longer.

“Mother! Look who’s come back.”

Tobi stands by the fireplace over a large black pot, stirring a wooden spoon in what looks to be meat stew with vegetables. She stands up straight (or as straight as she can) and turns around. “Welcome!” She smiles, wiping her hands on an apron. “Have you come with more medicine? Or just to say hello?”

“Both.” Alucard replies, a little meekly. He places another bag filled with new vials off to the side. “How are you?”

“Tired, but well. My husband’s off hunting for rabbit.”

“We already have some meat, but mother insisted he go find more.”

Tobi side-glances in Daniela’s direction. “Careful with that tone, my dear. It won’t get easier when there’s four mouths to feed instead of three.”

“You should sit down.” Without much resistance, she allows Alucard to gently guide her into a chair. Daniela tries to keep an eye on the pot and stew, but her attention is drawn elsewhere. “Your daughter tells me you’ve been experiencing terrible backpain.”

“It’s not terrible. Annoying is more like it, no worse than when the baby starts kicking.” She rubs her stomach, speaking between every breath as they grow heavier and more laboured.

“When did it begin?”

“A few days ago… it’s fine. I remember something like this before Daniela was born.” Tobi winces, sucking air through a row of gritted teeth, and Alucard feels a sting of worry. He read Lisa’s notebooks on pregnancy and childbirth but only as a precaution. These contractions that Tobi feels everyday—they’re normal during the later stages. Expected, even. Yet they are a sign of what is to come very soon.

“Rest, mother. I’ll prepare supper.”

“Have you spoken to any midwives?”

“The closest one lives in Arges—”

“And you’re in no condition to make that journey,” Daniela interrupts.

“No more worrying from you. We’ll send word to her when the baby decides for themselves.”

“The baby?” Alucard inquires.

“In the end, it’s not our decision to make. They’ll join this family when they’re good and ready to.”

The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Alucard’s mouth. He lets Tobi rest and joins Daniela by the fireplace. Time passes, the aroma of spice and herb fills the cottage, yet there’s no sign of Mihai. Alucard listens carefully to Tobi’s breathing, arduous but steady.

Until they turn into groans, which then turn into shouts. Her hands fumble about, unsure whether she should rest them on her belly or the arms of the chair, so tight her nails might dig right into the wood. Blood drains from Daniela’s face.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening? Mama!”

“I, I don’t know, I just—” Her words are cut off by another cry of pain. “It, it hurts so much now…”

Alucard wretches himself out of a near frozen state and rushes to Tobi’s side. The immediate sight of her wet stockings coupled with faint splotches of red confirms his suspicions. She was right; newborn babes come when they’re good and ready, but most are impatient.

Arges is miles away. He’ll have to act in place of its midwife.

“Daniela, I need you to bring me a basin full of warm water and as many blankets as you can carry.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Her frantic tone betrays what little composure she’s desperately trying to hold onto.

“She and your sibling will be fine if you do exactly as I say. Now go, quickly!”

While Daniela runs off, he helps Tobi out of the chair. Before she can try walking on her own, Alucard has already scooped her up into his arms. It’s easier this way, and he has the strength to do so. He doesn’t care if it reveals the truth about himself—in this moment, he doesn’t care about anything that isn’t the safety of Tobi and her unborn child at all.

Alucard takes her into the bedroom, stripping off any excess clothing until there’s nothing except a simple, light underdress. Her skin feels hot, close to a fever. Daniela arrives with exactly what he asked for. “Lie down. Careful now…” He says after laying a blanket on the bed. Tobi struggles, her teeth grinding together, hand tightly grasped in Alucard’s, but she achieves this one small goal. As if by pure instinct, she spreads her sweat-drenched legs and bends them.

_It's alright. Everything will be alright._ A mantra more for Alucard than anyone else. He removes his coat, gloves, and rolls up his sleeves before tying back his long hair. _People give birth in their homes every day._ Hands dip into the water basin. _My mother must have assisted with over a hundred. I know what to do._

Tobi lets out another scream followed by a series of curses, loud enough to shred her vocal cords.

“Don’t push so fast!”

“Something’s tearing, I can feel it!”

“Nothing is tearing. You and your baby are both alright.” Daniela takes a step back, eyes watery and lower lip trembling, but she stands firmly by her mother’s side. Alucard is proud of her, of them both. “I need you to keep breathing and push when I tell you to.”

The air in the room, barely big enough for three persons, turns thick. Everything becomes sodden; wet with sweat, blood, and other fluids. All over the bed, Tobi’s legs, her dress, and Alucard’s hands. But she breathes and pushes when told to. There’s a glimpse of the baby’s head before it disappears.

“Push again. You’re doing well. Take a deep breath… and…”

This continues, push after push after push. Too many to keep count of. Daniela holds onto her mother’s hand, unsure of whose grip is closer to crushing the other. There’s the blood again—more than there should be. Yet the only thing Alucard sees is the top of the head until it vanishes for the umpteenth time. He hears crying, not the sort that would give him hope. It might be coming from Daniela or Tobi or both.

“I don’t understand…” But he does. His lowered tone does nothing to hide the panic rising up. This is unfortunately another common occurrence with pregnancies and just as dangerous for the parent as it is for the child. There is a solution—the thought of which sends Alucard’s mind and heartbeat into a frenzy. It will be worse when he has to tell Daniela and Tobi. What would Lisa say if she saw him in this state?

_Calm yourself. You’ve been forced to do worse. You can take lives easy enough, but now you can save two._

He swallows hard, glancing down at his bloodstained hands. There will be more to come should he put this plan into action. “Tobi… can you still hear me?”

“Y-yes…”

“Listen to me very carefully. Something’s gone wrong, but I can make it right. I’ll need to cut open your stomach—” Shock. Horror. Angry silence from Daniela most of all. Just as Alucard expected, yet he explains further. “Right now, it’s the only option left. I promise to make it quick and painless…”

Daniela grabs his slippery wrist. “You’re not touching my mother again! You’ll kill her!”

“I won’t.” He doesn’t try to match the volume of her voice, nor does he wrench out of her grasp with more force than necessary. There’s no need for her to fear yet another thing. “You have to trust me.”

“She just needs to keep pushing!”

“Your mother has done all she can and it’s putting her life at risk.”

In the midst of their arguing, Tobi chokes out her decision. “Do it.” Tears mingle with the sweat upon her reddened cheeks. “If you have to save one of us… save my baby.”

_Now you can save two._ “Both of you are going to live. I swear that on my mother’s grave.”

Alucard instructs Tobi to lie back completely and for Daniela to stay by her side but not to look no matter what happens. Slipping a hand underneath her waist, he whispers something in an ancient language; dead to most Wallachians, alive and well in the Tepes castle hold. Only to help numb Tobi’s body from her abdomen to the bottoms of her feet. Lisa had her ice baths, Alucard has his father’s spells.

No more easy steps from now on. Using a sharpened nail, Alucard cuts a perfect line across the abdominal wall. A knife would have done the job just as well, but he fears what could happen if he leaves for the briefest moment. Eyes turn upwards to Tobi’s chest—still moving. No screams of pain or bloody murder. Alucard holds onto his composure, his need to be the cold spot in the room with a desperate grip as he makes another rupture along the uterus, cutting open the internal sac surrounding the baby.

The baby. There they are. One moment still inside their mother, the next in his arms, feeble limbs kicking and toothless mouth wailing. Smaller than Alucard expected, but healthy and loud.

“What is that? Is that my baby? Is my baby alright?!”

Alucard is speechless, not even able to muster a single “yes”. He cuts the umbilical cord, removes the placenta, and cleans the baby before handing them to Tobi. She holds their wriggling body against her chest, shedding tears of her own. Uttering the words “thank you god, thank you god, thank you god”.

The final step is quick. Alucard’s hands are deft at closing the uterus and abdomen (using a smear of his own blood to assist in the healing process). Still no words; he’s out of breath, out of strength both physical and mental. His shirt is ruined, and he couldn’t care less. He only stops himself from collapsing when Daniela suddenly embraces him. She buries her tear drenched face into his shoulder.

“Our saviour… you’re our saviour…”

Alucard stares at Tobi as she holds her newborn child with such tenderness. He raises a hand and places it on Daniela’s back. The other follows. 

* * *

Mihai returns home to his wife and two children. Alucard watches him drop his bountiful game to the floor and run to Tobi, weeping over the baby. Did his own father ever weep? Did blood flow from his eyes at the sight of Lisa carrying their son for the first time? Alucard has difficulty keeping his thoughts comprehensive, stuck in a daze. It takes a moment to answer Mihai’s question of why he was forced to commit such an act on his wife.

“There are many reasons. Age, unexpected complications with the body itself. She needs to stay in bed and let the wound heal on its own.”

“What you did… for my wife and daughter… you work miracles, sir.”

Alucard lingers on that word again: miracle. The first time he argued with its use in an effort to seem humble and rational. Now, he’s too exhausted to further dispute its importance. This is not a family that uses “miracle” and “saviour” in a light manner.

“I’m sorry for screaming at you. I was a fool… I should have let you work…”

Alucard’s expression softens as he looks at Daniela. “There’s no need for apologies. You were only protecting your mother.”

Daniela wipes away another tear before it has a chance to escape her eye. After much convincing, Alucard leaves the cottage wearing a new shirt gifted by Mihai once they threw his old, blood-soaked one into the fire. They made him swear that he would visit again, not as their doctor but as their friend. It wasn’t hard for Alucard to agree.

He trudges down the path with the moon and stars lighting his way. They haven’t named the child yet; it’s a tradition within their family to name a baby at least seven days after they’ve been born. But Tobi said she liked the sound of Adrian. Alucard likes it as well. It’s a good name for someone who might hopefully grow up to do good things.

The castle is dark, illuminated by only a few sparse candelabras burning the night away. They turn the grand hall into a hazy smoke-filled chamber. Nothing has changed in his absence, just as empty and quiet as it’s always been. A strangely comforting thing to return to. Alucard’s first immediate stop is the kitchen and its pantry. He pulls out a bottle of red wine and pours himself a glass, then another right after downing it in a single gulp. It won’t do much—to him, alcohol is barely stronger than water—but temporary release is better than none at all.

Alucard doesn’t reach his bedroom. Instead he finds the nearest study and collapses onto a lush lounge chair, his body sinking into the cushions. The ceiling tiles begin to blur and mesh together the heavier his eyes become. Something tickles at his fingertips. He sees Agrippa licking his hand, waiting patiently to be picked up and placed on his chest. Like the castle, he hasn’t changed.

“Sorry for neglecting you all this time.” Without sitting up, Alucard grabs the dog and holds him close. Reverting to when he was a child, lying in bed, holding that old wolf doll as though it were his third guardian. He allows himself the luxury of sleep, deep and peaceful.

* * *

“He’s not in here either.” Another door closes as the repeated sound echoes down the corridor. The two travelers have searched the entire ground floor with little success. Outside, sitting at the foot of the castle steps, is a familiar canvas covered wagon that has seen much better days. There it will remain for the next few days while its owners reacquaint themselves with the very place their respective families always taught them to fear.

“Do you think he changed his mind?” Asks Sypha.

“About what?”

“About returning to his vault in Gresit.”

Trevor ponders for a moment, his face framed by the white fur of his new cloak. All that somber talk about going back to sleep, about the castle becoming his grave; the dhampir is just dramatic enough to let everything turn into a reality. He doesn’t say it out loud, but the possibility worries Trevor. He didn’t gift his childhood home for nothing.

“If he did, the castle wouldn’t be in the shape it is now.”

Sypha stares up at the vaulted ceilings and towering walls, still impressed by such an architectural marvel. Trevor is right, the structure would have fallen into ruin had Alucard not stayed. They move onto the second floor and its countless hallways hoping to have more luck in finding their strange friend.

“You think we’re lost?”

Sypha _tsks_ loud enough for Trevor to hear. “Speakers do not get lost.”

“Right. Just like how they don’t break things.”

“I thought we already had this conversation.”

They have, but Trevor brings up the topic every so often just for a bit of fun without putting in too much effort. Their playful banter is cut short when Sypha absentmindedly opens a door and a small black object suddenly rushes past them. Trevor instinctively reaches for the Morningstar, starved for blood after weeks of hanging off his hip as mere decoration, until he realizes whatever that was poses no threat. However, the encounter leaves him no less confused.

“Was… was that a dog?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down.”

The two of them enter the room and Trevor sees why Sypha was so quick to shush him. Alucard lies passed out upon a full-length chair, breathing gently. Not unlike the first meeting between him, Trevor, and Sypha.

“I’ve never seen him out cold like this,” Trevor murmurs as they lean over him.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s fine. Just sleeping.”

Sypha continues to stare until she catches Trevor hovering the handle of his whip directly above Alucard’s forehead. “What are you doing?!” She whispers harshly.

“I’m waking him up.” His plan was to give him a careful tap on his skull, but Sypha has a much better idea in mind.

“Let him rest for a bit longer. We should make breakfast so that he has something to look forward to when he wakes.”

“Do dhampirs even eat real food? Or should we prepare him a nice banquet of pig and cow blood?”

Sypha decides to ignore Trevor’s sense of humour, even if he didn’t mean for it to sound so terrible. “Come on, you.”

She turns around and leaves, her blue robes trailing behind. Before Trevor can follow, he’s struck with a thought. Despite how he jests, he’s happy that Alucard seems to be taking care of himself. Even happier to be greeted with a few gentle snores rather than a middle finger to the face. Removing his cloak, now smelling of pine and smokewood, Trevor places it over Alucard’s body.

It seems he’ll always be there, offering dusty blankets to those he cares for.


End file.
